The Unhappy Ending
by cheshirecat101
Summary: Songfic based on the song Life 2: The Unhappy Ending by Stars. Eames/Arthur. Slightly AU, set after movie. Eames and Arthur have been together for awhile, but things go very, very wrong. Character death.


AN: This is a songfic based off the song Life 2: The Unhappy Ending. This is my first time writing Eames/Arthur, so constructive criticism is welcomed. Hope you enjoy!

Eames has just gone too far, and he knows it.

Driving far too fast on the slippery, rain-drenched road, he checks the rearview mirror again, and sees the cherry lights. He realizes that he's through, but doesn't share this information with Arthur, who's bleeding in the backseat.

"Give me a cigarette," the man demands, his hand pressed to his bloodied waistcoat.

"Darling, I never knew you smoked. That's rather bad for your health."

Arthur smiles with no humor. "In my condition, I don't think it's going to matter."

Eames clenches his jaw but removes a Lucky from the pack next to him and hands it back to Arthur, who lights it, the red tip of it flaring and then matching the color of the police lights behind them. Eames knows he can't turn back now, and so he says, eyes glinting mischievously, "Darling let's have fun." He takes the next exit doing 91, then guns it up to 95 and counting. They're in the woods soon, if he loses them he's gone for good, but he has no hope of that.

At a cabin in the woods somewhere, Eames has locked all the doors and windows, and now sits on the couch with his back against the armrest, body stretched out with Arthur lying on top of him, the other man's head on his chest as Eames strokes his lover's hair comfortingly.

"Don't worry love, we're almost done," he says quietly, and Arthur says, "I'm never worried when I'm with you. Although you are a loud-mouthed, obnoxious, pain in the ass con man."

Eames can barely manage a chuckle, his eyes fixed on a spot in front of him. Arthur looks up at him, finally causing him to break his gaze and look at him instead, and says, "This is the part where you save me. You save the day."

"I'm afraid I can't," Eames says with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes.

"You already have. I'd rather be here with you than anywhere else."

"Does that include a hospital?"

"It does."

Eames kisses him, a long, slow kiss that is far too tender and sweet and tells both of them exactly where they're headed. They both look away and Eames resumes stroking Arthur's hair. "You know," he says, "I could have really been someone."

"You mean someone's who's not a con man with poor taste in clothing?"

"Thank you darling, that's very helpful."

Arthur smiles briefly, then coughs, his chest shaking with the force of it. Eames holds him tightly, soothing him, and tells himself once again that he will NOT break down in front of Arthur, not for anything.

Arthur regains his breath and says, "There's nothing wrong with you being a con man. If you weren't a con man, you wouldn't have become a forger and we'd never have met."

"That would have been a tragedy. You need someone in your life to constantly annoy you and wow you in the bedroom," Eames says, giving Arthur a wink, who laughs.

"Always so full of yourself…" Another set of coughs wrack his body, leaving behind a bit of blood at the corner of his mouth this time, which Eames carefully wipes away. Outside, they can both hear the sound of the house being surrounded, whether by policemen or more dangerous people, they don't know, but suddenly it's a waiting game until the dawn and everyone involved knows Eames can't go on. Not without—

"This…us…it wasn't all a con, was it?" Arthur asks, avoiding Eames's gaze.

"I love you, Arthur. If you haven't figured that out by now you're a fucking moron. Darling," Eames adds, almost as an afterthought.

Arthur smiles, and it's genuine this time. "I love you too, Eames." He closes his eyes, the pain getting to him. "I wish this was a dream, and I could just wake up and hit you for leading me on and calling me darling again."

Eames hesitates, unsure of what he's about to do. "It is a dream, dear. Just a dream, and when you d-die—" he stumbles over the word "—you'll wake up, and I'll be there, and it will all be fine."

Arthur looks up at him. "Promise?" he asks, his voice quivering because he knows it's a lie, of course it's a lie, and he'd know that if he had the heart to reach into his pocket and check his totem.

Eames kisses him softly, again, too tenderly, and says, "I promise."

Arthur leans back against his chest again and wills himself to believe it just as Eames does the same. "Just a dream, darling, a sentimental little dream, and you'll be fine when you wake up, and I'll be there. Right, Arthur? Arthur? Arthur!"


End file.
